


Fighting Dreamers

by NudeScientist



Category: Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan
Genre: Erwin Smith Appreciation Post, Fighting Dreamers, I wrote this for his birthday, Other, Pre-Time Skip
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-24
Updated: 2019-10-24
Packaged: 2021-01-02 16:30:22
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,307
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21164678
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NudeScientist/pseuds/NudeScientist
Summary: I'm late (by 10 days) but like, Happy Birthday Erwin. Rip. Love you bunches. You deserved a better lot in life.This is a little self-indulgent darling I scribbled after I updating the first few chapters of APA. Seasonal Depression has been weighing on my chest a lot recently and that means more ficlets like this.





	Fighting Dreamers

**Author's Note:**

> I'm late (by 10 days) but like, Happy Birthday Erwin. Rip. Love you bunches. You deserved a better lot in life. 
> 
> This is a little self-indulgent darling I scribbled after I updating the first few chapters of APA. Seasonal Depression has been weighing on my chest a lot recently and that means more ficlets like this.

Squad 104 was more than shocked when Squad Leader Hange decided to throw a party for the return of Commander Erwin. Having lost an arm, the man had been dejected and dispirited. Hange’s normal tactics for cheer up her old friend had fallen to the wayside. Levi’s frown was deeper than usual. Erwin’s magnificent brows were furrowed in pain and frustration more often than not.

Due to the pressures from the public and slashes to the budget, most of the necessities for a party were sparse. Wine, ale and beer weren’t. Considering the occasion and the partygoers that was the only thing needed. Soldiers did not need streamers and cake. They had their bodies and friends and a desire to let loose for a night. Hange’s last and toughest job was getting Squad Levi to attend, Captain and all. 

For any other scout it would’ve been an impossible task. Luring the elusive Captain Levi was a task that required skill, patience, and the right amount of push. Getting the resident grump to attend any kind of party involved more blackmail and bribery than anything and only Hanji Zoe could do those two things at once.

“Leeeeeviiii, come or I’m throwing away all this Assam tea from the capital. There’s at least two months of daily brews in this tin. I spent a fortune on it and it’d go to waste.”

Levi’s glare was no less haunting and deadly than ever but his outstretched hand was a direct contradiction. “Give me the tea, you crazy bitch.” Each word uttered with more disdain than last, he was incapable of refusing. Assam tea was his paradise in this world of death and gore. Snatching the tin, the raven bolted from the room in a strong determined stride to fix himself a cup. He’d need it to socialize with the other scouts, especially on the day of Erwin’s return. 

Begrudgingly the Captain trudged his way to the mess that evening would surely shape up to be. True to his word, he’d attend Hange’s stupid fucking party. He wouldn’t be happy about it and he wouldn’t pretend to enjoy himself. As he strode closer to the entrance, raucous laughter bubbled out from the cracks between the stones and around the heavy wooden doors. He was sure a headache was on the menu, if he could hear them from behind the door the inside had to be deafening. 

It was, which stood to piss Levi off even more than he had. But with the cup of Assam tea still fresh on his tongue and mind, the agitation that spiked was soon soothed away. Tea lured him to a happier place and keep him there until the warmth dissipated from his core and found its way into a toilet. That process had yet to begin so the antics of what remained of the Scout Regiment weren’t entirely annoying. 

As if on cue Eren and Jean began bickering, Armin made a poor excuse of a mediator and everyone else watched with mirth in their eyes. Some taking bets, others boisterously laughing at the insults traded between the two. They were nothing new but the extra kick provided by intoxication made their quips and tad funnier. Funny enough for Levi to chuckle a few times before drinking any at all. 

Spotting the wide and surprised eyes glancing his way, Levi stood to fetch himself a drink. In his days of a thug, training had been his poison. He often fought himself to get better. After the loss of a dozen or so men in one trip outside the walls, Levi became fairly acquainted with beer and ale. Never to the point of overindulgence. Only to a place that spread a warm buzz through him. From his core to his toes, alcohol was a pleasant hum beneath his otherwise stoic facade. Downing his first beer then fixing another Levi began anticipating the Commander’s return. The party would be in full swing by then and his unproclaimed favorites would be entertaining at the very least. 

The antics of a drunk squad 104 was something to look forward to even after the worst day. Their many moods and clashing personalities were chaos on wheels and everyone gathered to watch them crash. It was a spectacle and on nights like these, they were encouraged to let loose and be the show that accompanied dinner and let loose they did. Their energies turned from exuberance to seductive to soft throughout the night. 

A seemingly simple game of truth or dare found Mikasa with Hanji’s wolf fur pelt wrapped about her waist and her breasts bandaged. Connie had to belt the names of the previous Commanders of the Scout Regiment in a song while bare chested from a previous dare. Jean was dared by Connie to write a limerick about Eren’s eyes. Armin spilled his guts about who dropped the Captain’s surprise cake for a surprise party that didn’t happen because there was no cake. Mikasa dared Eren to shut up for five minutes, which was probably the most difficult one to do because the others who were watching took turns seducing Eren with Jean’s awfully hilarious limerick. 

Erwin returned to the barracks to cheers, choruses of being a jolly good fellow, and an inebriated military branch. For him, there wasn’t much left to do but enjoy the festivities. A buzzed Corporal on his right, a wasted Major on his left and his promising young cadets gathered round. The air was full of well wishes, and “Welcome Homes” he thought he’d never hear. Yes, this was his home, these people were but to see their smiling faces directed towards him was a new kind of shock.

More often than not Erwin was greeted with the trembling facades of recruits who knew they would be sacrificed for the greater good of mankind. Rarely did they smile or relax or find peace in his presence. He wasn’t like the others. Not like Levi who respected the recruits and related to them, having recently joined the corps himself. Levi could get down to their level having experienced the lowest a human being can sink. Hange was younger than Levi, but they were a bastion to youth, full of energy and ranting and raving with the best of these kids.

But Erwin. Commander Erwin Smith of the Scout Regiment. Ruthless bastard. Shepard that leads the lambs to slaughter. Butcher and Collector of Bones, Patches and Tombstones. The graveyard outside HQ was offered referred to as his “Collateral Garden.” He could not relate and any attempt to do so would sully his station. So to see the “brats” gather and banter and offer him slaps to his remaining arm warmed the dull heart he was sure threw away for the advancement of humanity. He would not lower himself to their level, could not. The office he occupied demanded cold distant indifference most days but for a day, for tonight, he would celebrate being alive with the new trainees that held tight to the dreams they all would eventually die for. 

A toast rose from the older soldiers. “To Smith!” A drunken cacophony followed and another round of brash singing about bedding a farmer’s daughter and giving the sun a moon was sung with mugs raised high, spirits alight and voices bright. 

These are the men and women that would tear down the walls. These were the soldiers that would die for the cause. These were the ones prepared to lay down their lives and Erwin Smith, Commander of the Scout Regiment, losing an arm was another piece of firewood in the heart burning in their lungs. Bright in their chest. Emblazoned in the eyes. They would arrive. The would prevail. They would be free, flightless birds that they were, with the Wings of Freedom on their backs.

**Author's Note:**

> I put comments on toast and eat them like a 15 year old male anime protagonist that's running late for school.


End file.
